


The red panda

by HighlyExplosiveContent



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Established Relationship, Going to the Zoo, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Post-Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, hurt connor is an asshole, i guess?, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlyExplosiveContent/pseuds/HighlyExplosiveContent
Summary: Gavin knows that Connor and Nines are like brothers to each other. He also knows that Connor doesn't like him one bit. When he and Nines came forward about their relationship, however, he didn't expect Connor's distain for him to run so deep as to try and sabotage it.Unless there's some other reason why Connor insists on crashing at Gavin's apartment...
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 34
Kudos: 170





	1. Cat's out of the bag

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again asking myself why I wrote this.  
> This is my first Reed900 fic, but I need to preface this by saying that my focus on this story is Hankcon. Just a heads up to all you lovely Reed900 shippers out there, I'm trying to do you right as much as I can in this, but... yeah.

“Are you still nervous about tomorrow?”

Nines’ calm, level voice has incited a sort of Pavlovian response in Gavin - He hears those dulcet tones, and immediately his shoulders drop down from where they are perpetually tense and drawn up to his ears. When they’re at Gavin’s place, it also makes him sleepy. Or, as close to sleepy as he ever gets. 

Even so, he hates when Nines uses his effect on him to have him open up. It’s more difficult to repress his anxieties when he’s warm in the shower and listening to his partner recite the latest juicy gossip from the break room earlier today. 

Gavin has been bone-tired all day, and he hasn’t even said anything since they came home, simply undressing in the bathroom and pulling the shower curtains closed. There hasn’t been anything particularly stressful at work, mostly reports and other boring stuff, but Gavin has been on edge, anyway. Of course Nines picked up on that today.

“Huh? What’s that?” Gavin asks and pointedly pulls the knob to increase the water pressure, causing the pipes to scream. Thoroughly washing his hair, he hopes Nines will leave this alone, even though there’s no way he’ll let it go. Nines sighs.

“It’s not like Connor will kick the shit out of you.”

“Oh yeah? What about Hank?”

“Hank won’t do anything,” Nines assures him. “Why do you think they’d care?”

“It’s complicated, Nines,” Gavin mutters, not really sure what makes this situation so strange to him. 

Sure, it’s complicated because Hank has been pretty damn vocal about his hate for androids, only changing the tune last year. It’s complicated because Connor considers Nines his little brother, or something, and it’s _definitely_ complicated because Connor and Gavin can barely stand to be in the same room together. Gavin, who, before he knew any better, tried to destroy Connor last fall. Humiliation burns on his skin when he is reminded of when he woke up in the evidence room, having had his ass thoroughly kicked by Connor. Of course, they’ve made amends of sorts, but Gavin knows that Connor still thinks about that fight sometimes when they catch each other’s eyes at lunch, or over a boring meeting. He shudders at the thought of those cold, dark eyes.

Now, Hank and Connor are returning from over a month in New York, and Gavin has to address the fact that he and Nines are not only working partners, but boyfriends. Nines - calm, sweet but deadly Nines, who gets along with everyone at the precinct, who remembers birthdays and anniversaries, and who reminds Gavin to take his meds and eat something when it’s been too long.

“Gavin,” Nines says, pulling open the shower curtain. “They don’t hate you half as much as you think they do,” he smiles, the little shit.

“Oh yeah?” Gavin turns the shower nozzle until it sprays Nines in the face. Feeling childish and embarrassed, it fills him with some sense of gleeful victory. The predatory gleam in Nines eyes makes him reassess his choice to soak him, as he tries to parry the oncoming attack.

It’s another twenty minutes before they end up on Gavin’s couch, both having needed a wash up after Gavin practically shoved a bar of soap in Nines’ mouth, and instantly regretted it when Nines turned to him and spit kernels of the Pinewood Blend into his face.

There is something so fitting in the way they act as a couple, Gavin thinks. It’s not necessarily something new, rather an extension of their relationship as partners and friends. He is still waiting for something to separate them, for Nines to realize what a loser he is dating, but all the same, he trusts Nines to give as good as he gets.

The nerves about the following morning eats away at his thoughts, and when he opens his mouth, he sounds too fucking small.

“What if they don’t think we should be together?”

Nines scoffs at that, pulling him closer. His LED pulses a calm blue. 

“I’ll tell them to fuck off,” he grins and kisses Gavin senseless. There’s something about prim and proper Nines cursing like that, like he really doesn’t give a fuck. It might be just what Gavin needs, someone who doesn’t care whether anyone disapproves. Having anyone in his corner is foreign to him, and as much as it scares him…

He fucking loves it.

***

The next morning is business as usual. Gavin has a shit ton of reports to go through, which he has been avoiding for the past few days. Nines gives him shit about the slow pace at which he works, and he gives him the finger in return. Tina is patrolling with another new recruit. Chris is working on briefing them on a new case. Everything is as it should be, as it has been for the last couple of weeks. Gavin usually loves diving deep into work, loves forgetting everything else outside of it, but these days he finds the man on the opposite side of his desk taking up more and more of his attention. It’s hard not to steal glances at the man, his boyfriend. Why Nines wants him, Gavin will never understand, though he isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Nines blends beautifully into the station. He’s methodical, quick witted and has an empathetic way with witnesses. Other than that, he gets along so well with the others, who can’t help but like him. Tina and Chris accepted him quickly into their small circle, loving his little robot quirks and giving Gavin smug side glances whenever they catch him grinning at Nines with what Tina described as “goo-goo eyes”.

Work is pretty good, but it’s not like it’s all Gavin has anymore. That thought scares him, and yet he sees Nines across the desk, sees his LED light up and spin as he finds another interesting case, and thinks that sometimes fear is a sign of a good thing.

Around lunch, Fowler tells them that Connor and Hank have just landed at the airport, and that they’ll be here soon, depending on the traffic. Gavin’s stomach lurches as he realizes the moment he’s been dreading for two weeks is here. He briefly considers faking an illness, but knows that Nines will know, and he will be disappointed. 

So, he skips lunch and delves into one of the new cases that Chris has presented to them. It’s an interesting, if gruesome, one - an android and a human found completely torn to pieces by an android bear at the Detroit zoo. It’s so fascinating that he forgets what he was so worried about, until Fowler calls him and Nines into his office, and reminds him of why he really wants to run away.

It’s early afternoon when Connor and Hank walk into the precinct, feet dragging across the floor with their carry-on luggage in tow. Gavin sees Hank’s sagging shoulders, and he almost feels bad for him that Fowler made them come in right after they landed. In Fowler’s office, Gavin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, forcing a neutral expression as he waits for the judgement. Nines said that Connor will be happy for them, but sometimes Gavin thinks that Nines doesn’t know his brother at all.

Gavin and Connor never liked each other. From the moment Gavin laid eyes upon him, he concluded that Connor had a very punchable face. Of course, back then he hadn’t considered Connor to be more than a computer who could talk - punching the man was about as bad as kicking your hoover when it stops working.

Nowadays, when he knows better, he has still settled on the fact that he and Connor will never be friends. Something about him irks him, like he is waiting to find a weak spot in him, a dent in his armor. Even before he deviated, Connor was a little shit that loved to rile Gavin up, and Gavin is embarrassed to admit that he took the bait every single time. 

Of course, they don’t try to kill each other anymore, but that doesn’t stop them from nagging each other on a regular basis. And like a fucking enabler, Hank never stops Connor, only gives him a small smile or at most an exasperated sigh. Like he thinks it’s funny, the way Connor has picked up his less than charming personality traits.

The air in Fowler’s office is stuffy. Gavin hears Fowler call Hank and Connor inside, and from his own desk he can see Tina give him a thumbs-up. 

Why is he so nervous about this?

Hank raises his eyebrows at Fowler’s call, but looks back at Connor and shrugs his shoulders, probably too used to having his boss scream bloody murder at him. Connor, however, flinches at the words, and when his gaze finds Gavin across the glass door, he narrows his eyes. Gavin squirms on the spot, stealing quick glances at Nines for comfort. 

“Shit, you’re that happy to see me, Jeffrey?” Hank chuckles and plops down on the other chair opposite Fowler, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, giving the impression of a large bear, sitting on his ass. Connor stands closer to Nines, eyeing him closely with his LED blinking yellow. 

It’s stiff, despite Hank’s half-assed attempt to lighten the mood. Fowler clears his throat, leaning back in his own chair, hands folded on the desk. 

“It’s good to see you two again, detectives,” he says in his business-voice. “I’ve been in touch with the captains in New York, the reviews are mostly positive.”

Hank nods at the things Fowler brings up, the comments and the praise. If he suspects anything, he doesn’t show it. It makes Gavin even antsier, the reveal blowing out of proportion in his head. 

“Well, I think it’s gonna be awhile before I wanna get out there again,” Hank grouses. “I’ve been away from my dog too long now.” 

“That’s the least you can do for me after all the extra hours I’ve put in to only organize your fucking disciplinary-”

“You gotta let that go, Jeff-”

This turns the conversation into some of Fowler and Hank’s classic banter, where they push at each other with increasingly louder voices. It’s not as aggressive and ill-willed as last year, and Gavin thinks maybe it’s their own love language for each other.

“We’ll get someone else to cover for you next time. Maybe.” Fowler ends the stupid argument there, and Gavin does catch the faintest hint of a smile on his face. 

“All right, we’re back up to speed,” Hank announces. Pleased with himself, he’s leaning back and gesturing to where Gavin and Nines are standing. “Why’re you here?”

Fowler looks over at Gavin and gestures for him to start talking. Gavin clears his throat. He feels Nines’ hand on his shoulder. Hank looks over at him, and he feels his cheeks heat up. This shouldn’t be such a big deal. Gavin still can’t open his mouth to speak, his lips sealed as if glued together.

It’s Connor who pipes up first.

“Lieutenant, it seems detectives Reed and Nines are trying to come forward about their romantic relationship.”

Gavin flinches at the frankness, and he can see Nines snap his head to his side, where Connor stares at them both, a freaky chill in his eyes when he darts over Gavin’s features. 

Hank sputters, turning in his chair and staring at them both. 

“Wh- Seriously?” he croaks. “Since when?” 

“Just a few weeks ago,” Nines answers, and the glee in his voice settles Gavin’s nerves, if only a little. “Well, it’s something that I believe both Gavin and I have been gravitating towards for a while now. I think the longer case last month sort of closed the gap between us.” Gavin’s heart flutters at the mention of those days, of the first kisses after the case.

Nines turns to Gavin and grabs his hand, and Gavin feels the familiar smoothness of his fingers caressing his palm. They share a small smile, a comforting, warm thing that Gavin never thought he would ever deserve. “We have been in contact with HR, and Captain Fowler, obviously,” Nines continues with a pleasant smile, “and we’ve both agreed to initiate a trial period, of sorts, to prove that that our relationship won’t affect us out in the field.”

The office is quiet for a few seconds.

“Huh,” is the only thing Hank says, not smiling, but not disapproving. Something about that grinds Gavin’s gears - The most frustrating thing about Hank is the complete lack of reaction on his face, the power play in hiding his true feelings. 

“So,” Gavin says, bristling, “You won’t see us making out in front of you or anything, but. Well, everyone else at the station knows.”

“Never thought you would,” Hank smiles, and there’s a strange sadness in his smile that grinds Gavin’s gears more than anything. 

“Well, now you know,” Gavin continues, and hopes he’s allowed to leave. 

Of course, that’s when Connor pipes up again.

“You haven’t exactly been the poster boy for android allies,” he says, straightening up to his full height and glaring down his nose at Gavin, making sure their height difference is highlighted. It’s a fucking dick move that he loves doing. 

“Could say the same about your Daddy over there,” Gavin counters, barely daring to avert his eyes from Connor’s glare to where Hank is hunching, knowing full well he just stepped in it. Backtracking, he continues, “And look at him now, huh?”

“Hank didn’t assault androids unprovoked,” Connor hisses, venom in his voice. “He didn’t point guns at them for not obeying him. Why do _you_ get to--”

“Because you’re such an innocent, aren’t you? You’re fucking pathetic--”

“All right, let’s calm down,” Hank sighs at the same time as Nines snaps, “Gavin!”

Connor and Gavin look around each other, snapping out of it. 

“Dismissed. Get to work, you drama queens,” Fowler groans, with his head buried in his hands. “Hank, Connor. Go home, get some sleep, or… Whatever.” He gesticulates to the glass door with a heavy sigh.

The whole scene is quiet now, Gavin waiting for Connor to break eye contact and withdraw, which he does eventually. Without preamble Connor turns on his heels, uncharacteristically forward as he forgets to even wait for Hank, who’s usually the one taking the lead between them. 

Hank sighs, getting up on his feet slowly and waving at them before he steps out.

“For what it’s worth, _kids_ ,” he says, and the jab is not lost on Gavin, “I’m happy for you.”

Feeling tense all over, Gavin finds he has been clenching his jaw until his teeth have been grinding together.

“Well,” Nines says, watching Hank and Connor huddled together, looking like they’re having an argument. Hank is rubbing a hand over his face as Connor speaks. Gavin watches them leave the station with their luggage, Connor walking with a purpose, while Hank drags his feet. “That was… Something.” Nines sounds distant, his LED spinning furiously. 

Gavin opens his mouth to try and offer some additional comment, but he shuts it again. He thinks they’re being weird, or rather, Connor is. Normally like a puppy around Hank, following at his heels and two steps ahead to impress him, Connor doesn’t even glance back at Hank, or Gavin. 

Even in his own worst case scenarios, Gavin didn’t imagine that Connor would lose his shit like this. Hank, sure. That old geezer always had a short temper. But Connor? That guy revels in silent treatments and a pretense of niceness. It’s even stranger to see Hank and Connor argue about him and Nines.

Maybe it’s the long flight and the promise of coming back home, he thinks, though he’s not entirely convinced. 

“So, how badly do you think Connor wants to kill me now?” Gavin jokes weakly as they exit Fowler’s office. 

Nines is still frowning, his LED not having turned back to blue. He doesn’t answer right away, and when he blinks and says, “I think he’s just being dramatic,” Gavin isn’t sure he’s telling the truth.

***

It’s late the next evening, the blue of Nines’ LED the only light in the quiet apartment. Gavin is slowly falling asleep, and scoots closer to Nines, the scent of washing detergent comforting. If he already snores loudly, Nines doesn’t comment on it, simply lying next to him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders, hand making circles over his back.

The nerves from the meeting with Connor and Hank have unraveled and left Gavin into a relaxed mess. This is not necessarily a good thing, because he has been utterly useless at the precinct, staring at his screen and yawning all day. Today, he didn’t even care to insult Connor when he and Hank came back in, both fashionably late and unbothered by it. Instead, he listened to Nines relay this new case, the one with the murderous bear. Chris aptly named it the Red Panda case - a silly name for something so strange and unsettling. Because from the corpses of the two people found in the bear enclosure, they found bags of Red Ice, ready for selling, or stashing. Connor suggested that people were trying to smuggle the drugs inside the few biological animals as well, and he didn’t even care to question it.

It was interesting enough, though Gavin didn’t listen half as intently as he usually does. 

They have been sitting at a comfortable distance all day, him and Connor. The asshole kept giving him icy glares over the screen of his terminal. Gavin tried walking over to him with a thirium drink as a peace offering but while Connor accepted it, Gavin found him pouring it out in the sink ten minutes later.

The angry stares were occasionally directed at Hank, as well. Had Gavin not been exhausted from the other day, he would have commented on it, but as it was, he preferred to keep quiet and pretend he didn’t notice Connor’s stare.

He reckons if the asshole can’t be happy for Nines’ sake, then that’s his problem, not Gavin’s. Besides, if Hank’s okay with them being together, maybe Connor’ll eventually come around. Not that Gavin cares what Connor thinks of him, but he saw the tension in Nines’ smile at the station, the way he looked imploringly at Connor with those big, puppy-dog eyes. 

Gavin blearily thinks back on the day, though he feels himself falling closer to sleep, listening to the weird and oddly soothing beat of Nines’ thirium pump, groggily thinking that he hasn’t been this relaxed in years, wondering if maybe he’ll get a full night, for once.

That hope is mercilessly crushed as the bedroom lights up in yellow, and Nines breaks the heavenly silence.

“Connor?”

Nines tenses in bed, and for a dreadful second Gavin thinks that Connor has broken into their home. 

Were androids only able to communicate like normal fucking people, Gavin would listen in on the conversation through the speakers of the phone, but as it is, Nines is quiet while Connor speaks through their interface connection thing, and Gavin has to guess at the subject through conjecture. He shifts in bed and waves dismissively at Nines’ apologetic face, turning around with his back against him in hope that he still might catch some Zs. 

“Are you okay--No, I’m with Gavin. I can’t leave, no. This can’t wait until tomorrow?”

Gavin wants to tell Connor to fuck off, already tired of the asshole after one day back in Detroit. Sadly, Connor can't hear him. Nines sucks in a breath, then he pauses, his body tensing. Gavin curses his curiosity and turns his head, just a little, enough to see the frown on Nines’ face. “Oh. Of course. Door’s open.”

A sound pings from the hallway, telling Gavin that Nines just unlocked the door. He groans and scrubs his face, folding an arm over his head.

No sleep tonight, then. 

“What does he want?” Gavin asks, trying and failing to cover up his annoyance. He opens his eyes to look at Nines, ready to complain some more. The furrowed brows on Nines’ face throws him off. “What’s wrong?”

Nines waits a beat to answer.

“Connor wants to discuss the Red panda case.”

“Now _?_ ”

“He said he wanted to discuss it, ‘android to android’.” Nines at least has the decency to look guilty at that.

"Seriously, _now_?"

"It sounded... urgent," Nines says, and he doesn't sound so sure himself.

Gavin turns over to his stomach and presses his face into his pillow, covering a groan that makes his bedsheets vibrate.

It’s another ten minutes of waiting, before the android equivalent of a fucking headache saunters through the door, now in a pair of uncomfortable looking jeans and a hideous old T-shirt. Gavin thinks Hank’s loud fashion sense is rubbing off on him.

“Detective,” Connor says, nodding at Gavin’s direction as Nines grabs his wrist in an interface. Normally, Gavin would want to sneer and call him all sorts of rude names, but he has promised Nines to at least try and be nicer. So, he nods back at him from his vantage point in the bedroom doorway. 

It’s clear that Connor is not interested in whatever Gavin has to say about any of this, so Gavin politely offers him some fancy thirium tea-thing, which Connor declines, just as politely, and then he closes the door behind him and goes back to bed. 

The creepy part about Nines and Connor hanging out, is the fact that they can sit next to each other without making a sound. The only tells of communication they have are the blinks of the LEDs at their temples, and the occasional furrows of their brows.

It’s kind of unnerving at times. Gavin still listens for hours, before he falls into a restless sleep. At least he falls asleep, which he calls a win, because he has pretty much gotten used to getting lulled to sleep by Nines’ presence. 

It’s early morning, about two hours before he usually gets out of bed. The only light coming in through the blinds is from the lamp posts outside. Gavin jolts awake, but softens when Nines slips back into bed and presses against his back. The comforting feeling relaxes Gavin further, and he feels warm and sleepy.

That is, until Nines whispers in his ear,

“Connor is going to stay here for a few nights, if that’s okay with you.”


	2. The elephant in the room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back to read the next chapter!
> 
> Listen. This is not a case fic, so please don't think too much about the case or the way the police investigation works, because I sure haven't.

Connor sits between Gavin and Nines on the subway as they head to work the next morning.

As soon as Nines looks away Gavin gives Connor the stink eye. Like the bastard he is, Connor only smirks and straightens the folds of his shirt, still looking great despite the fact that it’s too big for him. It might be that the clothes are picked out to match his colors, like the way they match Nines’.

Before arriving at their doorstep, Connor didn’t think to bring any other clothes than the hideous band shirt, and so Nines borrowed him a set of his own office wear, picking one of the pieces that Gavin particularly likes - which felt like Nines was silently urging him to behave. 

Once the trio is settled at the station, work continues on like nothing has changed. They make some progress on the Red Panda case, which seems pretty straight forward, simply a drug deal gone wrong - the dealers just got creative. 

“Are you serious about him staying at our place?” Gavin asks Nines on their lunch break, having finally gotten away from the asshole in question. “Don’t you think it’s a little suspect?”

“Suspect of what?” Nines counters, frowning. “Gavin, he’s not _actually_ looking to kill you.”

He says this as if Gavin is particularly slow, and Gavin rolls his eyes so far back he almost feels his eyes get stuck to the back of his face. 

“What about him third-wheeling?” Gavin presses on, noticing the wild way in which he’s gesticulating when a couple of officers pass their desks. He takes a large bite of his sandwich, chewing loudly on purpose in an effort to get Nines peeved enough to spill the beans. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Gavin, please,” Nines begs, glancing around the station, and there’s something desperate in his voice that makes Gavin back off, for now.

“Fine, but you owe me,” Gavin finally says, pointing a finger at him like he’s actually serious about it. It makes Nines smile back at him, making kissing sounds at him.

Of course, flirting with your partner only gets you this far. By afternoon Gavin is ready to claw his eyes out - Head pounding and his eyes itching, he leans back against his desk chair and groans, accidentally kicking off the paperwork from his desk.

Connor and Nines barely leave each other’s sides, always close and working together, and Gavin can’t help but feel jealous about it. If Nines finds it frustrating, he doesn’t show it - always so patient with others, even annoying pests like Connor.

Of course Tina picks up on the oddness of it all, and when Gavin explains their new situation, she laughs in his face. When she sees Gavin’s face however, she sympathetically pats his shoulder, though holding back a snicker.

During the discussion of the latest findings from the Red Panda case, Nines suggests that the dealers could have been in cahoots with the owner of the zoo. Hank admits it's a plausible lead, and he gets out of his chair and offers to go to the Detroit zoo and interview the personnel there, hoping to find something that the witnesses haven’t picked up on. No one says anything, because everyone in the room assumes that Connor will go with him by default. 

Connor doesn’t move from his seat next to Nines. 

It’s such a strange moment, everyone looking around the room as if asking each other, “ _Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”_

Hank stands there, hovering between his chair and the glass door, and Gavin almost feels bad for him, except Nines pipes up, before it becomes too embarrassing.

“Mind if I join you, Lieutenant?”

Hank raises his eyebrows, but nods and gestures for him to follow out the door. They pick up their stuff and soon are out the door. Connor makes a noise, like he wants to argue, but ends up following them with his eyes, LED red for a short moment. His expression doesn’t give much else away, but Gavin is silently smug about Nines shaking him off.

Pretending like he isn’t schadenfreuding the shit out of the situation, he sighs and plops back into his chair.

“So, what do we do until then?” he asks Chris, who has awkwardly begun to flip through the case file again, a blush on his face. “Study some animal anatomy?”

“We should check out the zoo’s security system,” Connor offers, mechanically polite. “I still find it strange that those two got into the enclosure so easily, and at night, at that.”

“Think you can map it out?” Chris asks. “I’ll call the owners, see if we can get you the file.” 

“Thank you, detective,” Connor murmurs and gets up, stiff as he’s striding out the door, like he’s literally got a stick up his ass.

“Why does he have to make this week even worse?” Gavin groans the moment he’s sure that Connor is out of earshot. “ I can’t even avoid him at home anymore.”

“He’s not so bad,” Chris says, ever the diplomat. “I mean, Hank manages him twenty four seven without complaining, though you know…” he trails off with a wide gesture that says, _you know what Hank’s like._

Gavin stares at Chris, processing the words.

“Connor and Hank…” He has to pause to rub his eyes with one hand, as if that would clear his head. “You’re telling me that those two _live together_?”

Chris raises an eyebrow.

“You really didn’t know? I thought that was why Connor was staying with you - I thought they were having a domestic.”

Gavin registers the word _domestic_ and feels the need to throw up.

“If only. Connor’s up to something, and I don’t know what it is, except that it feels like he’s targeting me.”

“You’re probably overreacting,” Chris tries.

“Well, let’s hope so.”

Neither Nines, nor Connor show up for the rest of the afternoon, and Gavin does his best to leave at a time that normal people would consider “reasonable”.

He eats dinner alone, and waits for any sign of Nines. When it's so late that he feels obligated to lie down, he still listens for the buzz of his phone, telling him that Nines is on his way home. His mind wanders, because of course he can't sleep now that Nines isn't here.

_Hank and Connor live together. Yuuuck._

Later that evening Nines crawls into bed, and informs him that Connor will take two weeks off from work. It’s some upgrade shit or something like that, is all Gavin gathers from the burst of information pouring out of Nines as he explains why Connor won’t go to work.

***

It’s another couple of days of regular reports and loads of paperwork, mostly dissecting the recorded interviews with the witnesses. Nines suggests that they take a day to inspect the zoo, hoping that they can find any lead on where and when the incident, or murder, happened. Tina says that they can make it a date and drag Connor with them as the third wheel. Gavin doesn't talk to her for several hours after that.

And of course Hank doesn't appear bothered that his partner is messing up Gavin's life. He participates in the discussions at work, and Gavin even sees him go for lunch with Fowler and Ben one day. Gavin sort of wants to tell him off for not just going back to his apartment and dragging Connor home with him.

Though he complains about it, a lot, Gavin has sort of gotten used to finding Connor on the couch when he comes home and when he wakes up, calibrating some shit, or watching TV, or whatever. He hovers around him and Nines, watching them closely, as if Gavin is gonna take out a knife and stab him at any moment. 

It’s grating on his nerves, but he can’t truly figure out why - Something about this is fishy, and the frustrating part is he can’t discuss it with Nines, or Connor will hear it. As he lies in bed one night, hearing once again the soft murmurs between Nines and Connor in the kitchen, he knows that he won’t get Connor out the door before he has found out just what the hell his deal is.

***

Gavin is not someone who likes talking about emotions. No, he prefers to keep things close to himself. But when he feels the stress and the feelings taking over, he knows the best cure for them is to hear other people’s problems. He thinks about Connor’s punchable face and the way they revealed _some emotion_ when Hank and Nines left the precinct the other day.

Even though his head is pounding on their way home, there is a sliver of pity in his heart for Connor. Or maybe it’s curiosity. It doesn’t matter why Gavin thinks his plan is a good one. All he knows is that if Connor really is lonely, or if he is scared to lose Nines, then Gavin needs to find Connor some new friends. Standing in the shower and scrubbing at his face and hair, he thinks about all of this, and comes to a conclusion.

Gavin surprises the androids that evening by coming out of the bedroom in his less worn-out T-shirt and his fancy jeans. Connor and Nines are going through the security camera footage, huddled together on the couch, heads smacking against each other when they both look up. Nines’ nostrils flare and Gavin grins at him, knowing full well the cologne he put on is Nines’ favorite.

“You going out?” Nines asks and Gavin nods.

“Yeah, taking Tina and Chris out.”

Nines smiles. “Well, make sure to tell them I said hi.”

“Actually,” Gavin says and picks up his keys, “You’re coming with me tonight.” He leans back against the wall, grinning. “Both of you.”

He’s not sure which of the androids looks the most shocked. 

“Thank you Gavin, but you don’t need to invite me. Go out and enjoy yourselves,” Connor says with a small smile, eyes crinkling even as he rapidly drums his fingers on his knee. “Please, I’ll be fine, I know you two haven’t had time to hang out.”

Gavin wants to tell him that he hasn’t exactly been going out of his way to give him and Nines space since he decided to crash in their apartment.

“Nu-uh, don’t try it, tin can. You’re coming with us,” Gavin says and waves him over. Tonight he might be able to put some pressure on the asshole and find out what the hell his deal is. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone sitting home alone on a friday night, okay? Let’s go.”

The uncertain smile on Connor’s lips is so strange to witness, and Gavin has to look away, because at this point he has disliked Connor for too long, so he can't just start tolerating him.

***

“I’ll just head to the bar, first round’s on me,” Gavin announces when they arrive and find Chris and his wife at one of the tables. It’s one of their new favourite places, edgy and modern with thirium drinks served in ridiculous glasses.

“What the hell… Connor?” Tina shouts over the loud music when she gets through the door and finds them, placing her glass of wine down on the table. “Never thought I’d see you here, of all places!”

She hugs everyone at the table, and when she gets up to hug Connor he accepts it, with a slightly befuddled look on his face. Gavin covers a snort when he sees it.

For just a moment, there’s an awkwardness in the air, as the friends around the table acknowledge the new constellation. Chris nervously spins his beer glass and clears his throat.

“So, um.. How was New York?” he asks, and to Gavin’s surprise, Connor grins, happily relaying the gossip from NYPD. Everyone listens to his story, getting lost in the way he tells it, and Chris barks a laugh when Connor gets to the punchline. For once, the stiffness and haughty glare melts away on Connor’s face and Gavin can see a glint of why Nines likes him. Maybe he is more relaxed around people that don’t mind having him around. Maybe Gavin and Connor are more alike than he thought.

Why he feels proud of this fucker that he can barely stand, he can’t explain.

Connor talks, and laughs, and otherwise sits in a pose that would look comfortable and relaxed, if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s fucking Connor - Connor, who calculates and analyzes everything. 

It’s like the weirdest sci-fi moment, seeing Nines and Connor next to each other, to watch them interact with their colleagues. Strange, because they almost look completely the same, except for Connor’s moles and Nines’ considerable height. 

Strange, because while Nines has been alive for a shorter time than Connor, he carries himself in a more relaxed and sweet manner. He acts more human, most of the time. Or maybe that’s Gavin’s own rose colored glasses, he muses and grabs a handful of peanuts. 

The evening is just what Gavin needed, he realizes as he feels his shoulders relax further down, a pleasant buzz drowning out the background noises. His shit feels like less of a problem when he gets to listen to Chris complaining about his toddler tearing down everything he comes across, of how he’s barely sleeping nowadays.

He can always count on his friends to make him feel better, and even though he knows he has to take Connor back home with them, the thought is not as excruciating as before.

He and Nines sneak off outside to make out by the back door, having missed the contact for so long. Nines holds him firmly, locking his arms around his back and presses his nose into the crook of Gavin’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good,” he sighs, content, and Gavin groans at the attention. 

It only goes so far, and Gavin is pleased with simply holding his boyfriend close, enjoying Nines peppering kisses all across his face, in his hair.

God, he loves him so much.

While the evening progresses, Nines and Tina elaborate on some new show that Gavin has completely missed, and Connor is deep in conversation with another android that recognized him from the night at Hart Plaza. Gavin hears snippets of their conversation, and his eyes shift to Nines when he hears that the subject is deviating.

Connor tells the android, Joanne, about his first week at DPD, about his missions and how he struggled against his program during those days in November 2038. Joanne is enrapt by the story, and continues to share her own experience with being stuck in her programming, how she felt like a prisoner in her own mind for years. 

Gavin glances at Nines, squeezing his knee under the table. Nines pretends he isn’t looking, but his hand is tapping nervously at his thigh.

It’s a bit of a sore spot, the fact that Nines never really deviated on his own. On the day of the revolution, Markus woke him up, and there was never any need to fight against his code, to have that moment of breaking free from the prison in his mind. Of course, after the whole ordeal with Ada, he got to experience the fire wall in his mind palace, but he never had to deal with the things Connor and many more had to go through - living with the regrets and guilt.

It’s getting late, and Gavin is ordering a taxi when Tina elbows Connor’s side.

“Hey, someone’s checking you out,” she says in a stage whisper. “Two O’clock.”

Connor glances to his side, only mildly interested. Gavin raises his brow at Tina, and follows Connor’s line of sight to a young man that is _definitely_ checking him out, biting his bottom lip and tipping his glass of beer at him. Gavin only half-listens to their gossip, and vaguely wonders if Connor has ever shown any interest in anyone. 

The idea of anyone who could stand him for longer than an hour, Hank excluded, is laughable. Though, he muses, he would probably get away with a one night stand without any trouble.

Connor smiles, tight lipped. “It’s all right, he’s probably just recognizing me from the news.”

“Come on,” Gavin groans, leaning back in aggravation. “Look, I’m only saying this because I’m practically dating your taller, buffer twin, but you gotta know you’re good looking!”

Nines swats at Gavin’s arm, chiding him, though he is looking awfully smug about it. Chris and Tina laugh out loud at the comment. Connor is quiet, sipping slowly at his drink as if buying time. Something flashes across his face, something Gavin can't quite put his finger on. He thinks he might get another puzzle piece, but alas.

“Even so, I’m not really interested. Though I appreciate the effort.”

“Think Hank would be pissed if you brought home a boy toy?” Tina laughs, and even though it’s meant goodheartedly, Gavin notices the way Connor’s shoulders tense. She realizes what she said and the fact that it’s Gavin and Nines that would be affected if Connor decided to bring someone home.

“I think he’d be more surprised than anything,” Connor answers diplomatically, and Gavin remembers once again that Connor and Hank live under the same roof. 

The others let it go, and Gavin feels disappointed that he won’t have one night completely alone with Nines, having Connor out of the apartment. 

Tina’s cab arrives before everyone else’s, and she hugs everyone before leaving the table. Chris’ wife drives him home, and soon Joanne leaves as well, telling Connor to call her.

Even though their cab is really late, Gavin is pleasantly buzzed and doesn’t really care at the moment. He’s leaning against Nines’s shoulder, enjoying the lovely scent of his perfume that he doesn’t need, of the slightly metallic smell that makes up the scent of Nines. He’s thinking about how he’s going to wait until Connor is in stasis tonight, before he drags Nines into bed and kisses him silly, how he’ll get a rag and Nines’ cleaning supplies, having Nines peel off his synthskin and letting him clean him. Since they became official, Nines has reluctantly invited him to his regular routine, and that is a warm thought that makes him feel giddy inside. 

That feeling dissipates when Connor opens his mouth for the first time in ten minutes.

“How is he? Hank, I mean." He is smiling but it looks more like a grimace, the way his lips twitch, and Gavin is thrown by the wobble in his voice. "Is he.. Okay?"

Gavin swallows. He is too tired and too drunk to fully grasp the meaning in Connor's question.

“You don’t talk or anything?” he asks dumbly. Nines subtly shakes his head at him, as if telling him to shut up. Connor’s smile falters.

“No, not right now.”

Gavin thinks about the last time he saw Hank and Connor speaking to each other, and realizes that they’ve barely said a word to each other since their argument outside Fowler’s office.

"He shows up at work, and he’s not drunk like a skunk," he settles on saying. Connor doesn't smile, only nods and stares at his empty thirium glass. When he speaks again, his voice is so small that Gavin actually feels bad for him.

"I'm sorry for invading your space,” he says, and he does sound sorry about it, “But I can't go home right now."

"Don't worry about it," Nines smiles before Gavin can open his mouth, and for once he doesn't feel like arguing. 

They go home in silence, though Gavin is pretty sure that Connor and Nines are communicating through their interface shit. His mind is swimming at this point.

When they get home, Gavin hurries to the bathroom, and when he emerges in his sleep shirt he finds that Nines has dragged Connor into their bed as well. Nines lies on his back, LED a calming blue, with Connor tucked in at his side. Gavin keeps forgetting the way those two have this connection that he'll never understand, and if this is what brotherly love means to those two - who is Gavin to argue?

It's a big bed, and while sober Gavin will definitely find this way too robo-creepy, he doesn't think too much about it. He crawls under the cover, glad that it's Nines in the middle and not Connor, and throws an arm over Nines' body. 

Connor makes the same kind of mechanical noises as Nines, and it's strangely comforting to have them both there - two terminators, ready to protect him from nightmares.

(Gavin will pretend that he never, ever, had that thought the next morning).

Before he falls asleep, the same thought swirls in his mind.

_What the hell did Hank do to Connor?_

***

“Couldn’t have grabbed a bag of donuts on the way?” Gavin sneers at Hank when he comes back with the steaming cups of coffee, a staple for stakeouts. It's the first moment that he has been able to get alone with Hank since he came back from New York, and he is ready to get to the bottom of this. Hank snorts at the jab.

“Trying to be a lil’ healthier. Sorry, thought Nines had been up in your shit as well.”

It’s a strange thing to say, but Gavin knows what he means. Nines has made Gavin’s well being one of his top priorities, something he somehow finds endearing and annoying at the same time. He accepts the mug and smells it. It’s at least from a coffee shop, not some burned coffee from the bottom of a pot in the office kitchen. 

“Staff has a few of the crew working nights each week,” Hank mutters and reads something from the report on the pad. “They’ll make sure to give us the schedule of the night of the murder, and two months back at least."

“Can’t believe they let the zoo stay open after something like this,” Gavin thinks out loud, tasting the coffee and sighing.

“Hm, probably can’t afford to close it down,” Hank offers, and they fall silent.

It’s a different vibe than usual, him and Hank sitting in a control room in the Detroit zoo. He leans back in the spinning chair, propping his feet up on the dashboard, thinking about the way Nines always shoves his feet back down on the floor.

His heart squeezes at the thought of Nines home, alone. The idea of missing someone so much, someone that he sees and hangs out with and _makes out_ with everyday, is new in the sense that it’s been years since last time. Nines would tell him to sit up straight or risk fucking up his back, he would make some observation about the drama with the zoo keepers, _Serena doesn’t know that Danny was the one who left the lid to the cockroaches open, and she is still convinced it’s one of the cleaning staff who is fucking with her. Of course, she’s a bigoted asshole, so I don’t really feel sorry for her._

Gavin thinks he would have enjoyed working tonight, had Nines been here. Instead, he is locked in a cold, dark room lit up by screens, only to listen to Hank’s laboured old man-breathing. 

Gavin’s phone rings, and he can’t keep the small smile from spreading across his face when he sees the caller ID. 

“Hey, did you find something?” he asks.

“No, I got pretty much stuck and had to call it a day,” Nines says. “I’m home with Connor. We found an old set of Jenga in your bookshelf, so you can imagine the fun we’re having.”

It makes Gavin laugh, and he wants to hide his grin in his hand. 

“I really wanna see two androids playing that game,” he says and revels in Nines’ chuckle.

“It’s interesting, I’ll tell you that. How about you, seen anything suspicious yet?” 

“Nada,” Gavin sighs. “Though the night is still young, I suppose. Got my coffee ready, anyway.”

He can imagine Nines smiling. There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line, and Gavin supposes Connor is giving them some space to talk. He wants to ask, wants to know if Nines is worried about their relationship, if Connor is spewing lies and really trying to break them up.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“I will. Hey, I miss you,” Nines mumbles, and Gavin’s heart sings, never tiring of hearing that.

“Miss you too,” he mutters before they say good night and hang up. 

He is desperate to have Nines here, now. 

It’s quiet again. Gavin is deep in thought, imagining Nines and Connor stacking the Jenga tower into the shape of a fucking DNA chain or something. The cameras show nothing of interest yet.

“So…” Hank says, breaking the silence with a cough, “You and Nines?”

It’s difficult to keep his scowl on his face.

“Yeah,” Gavin breathes, and now he just wants to curl up beside his Terminator and listen to the whirring and clicking coming from him. Taking a gulp of the coffee, he sighs. “It just felt natural after… Well, after everything with Ada and stuff.”

“He’s good for you, yeah?” Gavin chances a glance over at Hank, and finds his eyes warm, wrinkles at his temples. “I’m glad.”

Gavin looks away, furious at the stupid blush on his face. Fucking Hank. 

“So, we’re just gonna ignore the elephant in the room, then?” 

“Hm?” is Hank’s answer. His eyes widen at Gavin’s question, the only tell that he has caught him off-guard, but he puts down the cup in front of him, a little forcefully, and gingerly turns in the seat next to him. It’s uncomfortable to sit here, with all these things unsaid between them, so he opens his mouth and hears himself say,

“You know that Connor’s been hiding out at my place. What the fuck happened in New York? The two of you are never apart this much.”

Gavin has been speculating on the cause for the icy atmosphere between Hank and Connor, but he can't make head or tails out of it.

He also remembers the worried looks from Nines, the late calls back in the weeks prior, where he was up all night speaking to Connor through their connection.

“Seriously, did you do something to him? Is that what happened?”

Hank does what he does best - He gives Gavin an unimpressed side-eye, and sips the coffee, muttering like Gavin asked him about the weather, “Dunno, maybe he’s just overworked. New York was hard on him especially.”

Gavin takes those words in, knowing full well just what a load of bullshit that is. He laughs incredulously, feeling the stab of bitterness seeping through his words. It could be his lack of sleep, after weeks of, by his standards, well rested days, that makes him press on.

“Right, of course. I forgot you don’t share anything with anyone.” _especially not with me._ “Not even when your pet disrupts my nights because he is dead set on working my boyfriend to the ground, instead of coming back to work and being forced near to your pasty ass.” Hank snaps his head to him, and Gavin thinks he got him, except he just sighs and goes back to stare at the screens. “Whatever. I shouldn’t be surprised, anyway.”

Back in the early days of Gavin’s employment, when Hank was his mentor, Gavin was a little starstruck by him. It would be difficult not to - Hank was, after all, quite an impressive man back then. Tall, muscular and cocksure, he taught him the ropes with the patience of a man with a toddler at home.

They had sort of been friends back then, and they worked well together. 

That was a long time ago, however. Long before Hank stopped coming to work on time, before he distanced himself from everyone around him, picking fights with Fowler and botching cases because he couldn’t be assed to show up. Gavin would be lying if he said he isn’t still bitter that Hank just gave up, that Fowler kept enabling him out of a sense of obligation to their friendship.

It’s another hour of staring at nothing in the dark, the only thing worthy of note being one of the few surviving leopards prowling her territory, her eyes gleaming in the lamp light. Gavin finishes his coffee and begins to balance the paper cup on his feet, still propped up at the dashboard. Hank has his hands folded over his stomach, quietly observing the screens, and once in a while makes notes on his pad.

They make quiet conversation about the case, both observing that there are pieces missing that don’t add up, but Gavin doesn’t get that much feedback from Hank, who seems preoccupied.

“How…” Hank begins and pauses to take a deep breath through his nose, “How is he?”

“He’s making sure I can’t enjoy my evenings with my boyfriend, that’s for sure,” Gavin starts, but then his mouth snaps shut as he takes a long look over at the man beside him. Hank looks worried, fiddling with his hands. It’s such an unusual sight - Hank being insecure, anxious about something. Gavin takes a second to go through what he should say, then he decides to take a stab in the dark.

“Y’know, I understand not wanting to be around colleagues that are hitting on you. I’d wanna run away too if you were hitting on _me_. I just wish Connor wasn’t so desperate that he had to steal Nines from me.”

His voice is deliberately nonchalant, and he spares a quick glance at Hank, who blanches, leaning forward and sighs. 

It’s not the reaction Gavin was hoping for. He assumed that Hank would be red faced, stammering and swearing up and down that they’re just friends, that he’s not that kind of guy, anything but this quiet reaction. He’s not sure what to make of it.

“Look, he just needs some... space, that’s all,” Hank says, and he sounds tired. “I thought it would do him good to… To be away from me for a while, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Gavin mutters, staring up at the ceiling.

It’s another hour before they give up.

“Think we can call this lead a bust, huh?” Hank eventually groans, shifting in his seat and standing up to stretch out his back. His voice is deliberately casual, as if he can will the previous conversation to cease to exist. Gavin thinks about crawling into bed with Nines, and then about Connor being kicked out of Hank’s house. About Hank having a crush on Connor and their friendship being ruined. It sucks, and when he sits in the passenger seat of Hank’s car, he thinks about just how lonely Connor must be without his best friend.

***

LAST NIGHT IN NEW YORK

The hotel room is eerily quiet. 

Connor can still smell the perfume of that police woman, officer Young, on the collar of Hank’s jacket. He can trace the lines of the lipstick that got stuck on Hank’s cheek after she apparently kissed him. A quick scan tells him that it’s a cheap brand, and a color that doesn’t compliment her complexion. Hank hasn't done anything wrong - After all, it's Connor who...

But he still is angry.

He really is.

“Had fun?” He asks Hank, and he is really trying, damn it, to sound unbothered. Instead, he sounds like he’d like to throw the king-sized bed out of the window. Which isn’t far from the truth. Hank scratches his neck, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand, as if knowing that Connor is looking at it. Connor continues to clean up the clothes from the floor.

They’re leaving tomorrow, and they haven’t even tried to get ready - And Connor didn’t get to use the fancy tub once. 

Hank tilts his head back, narrowing his eyes as he follows Connor’s movement. Connor knows that expression and what it means - Hank is scanning him in his own, human way.

“What’s goin’ on?” Hank asks, folding his arms over his broad chest. Connor bristles.

“You’re the one who said that colleagues shouldn’t be dating,” Connor snaps, furiously wrenching open his suitcase and begins to fold his shirts. “Seems a little _hypocritical_ of you.”

Hank sighs, loud and long. He’s agitated, and maybe upset, Connor thinks.

Good.

“I’m not dating Young, if that’s what you think-” Hank begins.

“I'm not thinking anything. You do whatever you want." It's petty and childish, and Connor knows he has no right being angry with Hank for this. 

He grips the handles of his bag, practically hearing the thrum of thirium running through him. 

Hank gapes at him. Connor hopes this is the moment he’s been waiting for, the moment where Hank apologizes and hugs him, tells him that they’ve both been idiots and that he doesn’t want anyone else.

That’s not what happens, of course.

“I can’t fucking believe this shit,” Hank growls, dumping his wet leather jacket on the carpet and stomping over to the bathroom, pointedly locking the door, something he almost never does at home.

Connor is fuming, slamming his bag shut, not entirely sure what just happened or why he is so angry with Hank - all he knows is that he would gladly move past this if only Hank would come back outside.

The shower turns on and Connor listens to the spray of water for another twenty minutes.

Once Hank is back in the bedroom, he stares at the sofa, pausing halfway towards the bed. Connor lies in the bed, not really needing to sleep but suddenly desperate to just turn everything off for a while. The heat of their argument has blown over, and left is this strange energy between them, a tangible thing that separates them. Connor’s thirium pump is throbbing inside him, violently shaking against his ribcage. It burns, and he feels his breaths shaking.

“Don’t,” Connor whispers when Hank moves towards the sofa, and Hank startles, probably thinking that he was already in stasis. “You’ll mess up your back if you sleep there. I’ll lie down there if you’d rather sleep alone--”

“Stop,” Hank interrupts him, “Of course you don’t have to move.”

Despite the politeness, they both feel the strain of their argument in the air, and it’s quiet when Hank finally lays down on the mattress.

Seeing as neither of them will continue their fight, Connor eventually leans over the edge of the soft bed, turning off the lamp on his bedstand. It's pitch black in the room, except for the red light coming from the air conditioning regulator. The bed creaks when he settles under the covers. It’s too warm, he thinks. His thirium pump is loud in his ears.

He wishes at once that Hank could leave right now, that he already was back in Detroit... And in the next breath he almost turns to face him, to sneak closer and lay his head against Hank’s chest, listening to his heart beating and his breath rumbling.

Hank's breathing doesn't slow for a while, and Connor monitors the pattern, pretending that he has slipped into stasis. Hank eventually starts snoring softly, a sound that Connor normally finds comfortable.

When he is sure that Hank is deep asleep, he slips out of bed, his pajamas sliding softly against the covers. He gently closes the bathroom door, and lets the red of his LED light up the dark room as he tries to make sure that his sobs don't wake Hank up.

His thirium pump beats even more painfully, and an irrational urge to reach inside himself and rip it out makes it difficult to breathe in - which is stupid, because Connor doesn't need to breathe. Sitting on the edge of the large bathtub, shower curtains shifting against his side, he clutches his arms and heaves.

He tries to call Nines in desperation several times, texting him and hoping that he will be able to call him back. There’s nothing in return, as he is unable to reach him, for some reason. His breaths come in short, spasmic, in a way that he can’t control. Hyperventilation he thinks vaguely, as he tries, and fails, to calm down. 

It's his own fault. He knows this. He just didn't think the whole thing would hurt this much.

On monday, they’ll be back in Detroit and they’ll live together. they’ll work and joke. Connor will make Hank dinner and fuzz about his eating habits. Hank will get him silly socks with dogs on them and give him that fond smile when Connor does something that seems so human-like in its absurdity.

Hank will date other people, and he will treat Connor like a friend.

And Connor will die inside.


	3. Red Herring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You thought you'd already seen me post chapter three?  
> Well, tbh I didn't really like the last chapter I put up and so I decided to rebel against my own principles and just delete it from AO3. This contains a few of the scenes from before, but it has a lot more new content, it's the ending that I intended from the start, and I'm much happier with how this turned out.  
> I hope I haven't ruined the experience for the people who read the old chapter, and that you'll all enjoy it! Thank you for reading as always!!!
> 
> Also, please note that I'm not a detective story writer. This has a smidge of case in it, but I by no means know how these things work, and I'm just talking (or writing) out my ass. So please take the case part of this fic with a grain of salt and just enjoy the relationship drama!

_TWO WEEKS EARLIER_

_“Connor…”_

_“I made up my mind, all right?”_

_Connor doesn’t have a lot of clothes in his drawer, but he still doesn’t feel like stuffing a backpack with his shirts and pants. He stands in the hallway, LED lighting up the house in red, doing his best to ignore Sumo’s sad whines. Hank stares at the floor, hands shoved deep in his pockets._

_The air is thick between them. Neither of them speak for a minute, both of them scared of what the other might answer. Then Hank starts,_

_“You don’t have to leave right this moment, okay?” He scrapes at his beard - it’s getting longer again, Connor notes. “I just meant that you and I probably need some… Some distance, and maybe you’d be better off at Markus’ place.”_

_Connor bristles at that, and he straightens up to reach for his scarf. Hank got it for him as a holiday present._

_“I know what you meant,” he answers icily. “There’s no need to explain. I'll be out of your hair soon."_

_"Connor..." Hank sighs, but Connor yanks open the door and strides out into the autumn chill._

_As he closes the door behind him, he hears Hank locking it approximately 3.4 seconds later, and through the gap there’s the muffled noise of Sumo anxiously calling for him._

_It’s for the best. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he starts opening a connection for Markus to answer._

_Then he pauses. The taxi arrives and he sits down. He hangs up before Markus can answer._

_He doesn’t truly know why he decides against calling him. Markus has, after all, more space than any other android he knows. Space is, however, the last thing he needs right now. The sinking feeling in his stomach, that he is alone and homeless for the time being, is draining him of any rational thought._

_In the end, he contacts the only person besides Hank that he truly trusts. So, even though Nines comes with an arrogant prick of a detective, Connor feels the knot in his stomach loosen as he hears Nines’ familiar voice on the end of the line._

***

It’s not as quiet as Gavin expected when he wakes up. The TV is on, and Nines and Connor are curled up on the sofa. 

Now that he thinks he understands what’s going on, why Nines hasn’t been telling him the truth of why Connor is staying with them, he finds himself feeling, if not warm, then sympathetic for Connor. 

Connor, arms wrapped around his knees on the couch, looks up at him with his LED spinning yellow. For the first time since they met, Gavin doesn’t see the pompous dick that loves to counter all Gavin’s arguments with some know-it-all facts and a deadpan expression. Connor’s eyes widen as Gavin stands next to the TV, his eyes darting between him and Nines.

“I know what’s going on,” Gavin says, and Connor looks terrified - a strange look on such a ferocious person. “Hank didn’t tell me, I just put the pieces together.” He spares a glance at the film they’re watching, and waves dismissively. “So, you don’t have to talk to me about it, but at least there’s no need to keep it a secret. I’ll go take a shower, you keep watching…” he squints at the old movie star on the screen, “... Captain America. I smell like fertilizer all over.”

Nines knocks on the bathroom door when Gavin is stepping into the shower, eager to warm up after several hours of sitting still in a cold room. There’s something comforting about the way he drags his eyes appreciatively over Gavin’s sad form, in a loving way, rather than sexual, like he enjoys cataloguing every detail about his appearance. Gavin stops with one foot in the shower and opens his arms as Nines crowds him into the wall, smelling at his neck and dragging his smooth hands all over his naked body. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” Nines murmurs into his ear, and Gavin shivers. “Sorry that I kept it a secret, but it wasn’t mine to tell.”

“You were just being a good brother,” Gavin assures him and pets his soft hair. Nines buries his face in Gavin’s shoulder. “I just wish Connor didn’t have to use us as the last resort, just because Hank threw him out. He’s gotta have better options, you know?” 

Nines stiffens, but soon extracts himself only to grab the shower hose and gently let the warm spray of water warm Gavin up. 

“It’s not that simple,” Nines says, and Gavin gets it, but still.

“I mean, I wouldn’t wanna live with you either if you decided to dump me, but hell if I’d kick you out before you’d have any place to go.”

Nines hums at that, massaging his scalp and continues to wash him, stopping occasionally to place soft kisses on his shoulders. Gavin wants to say more, longing for some privacy from eavesdropping androids. 

As if on cue, he can hear Connor’s voice once the shower is turned off. A minute later, Connor knocks on the bathroom door,

“Markus called me. They need me at New Jericho. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Seeing the excuse for what it is, Gavin snorts and raises an eyebrow at Nines when Connor slams the front door.

“What, so I _may_ have contacted Josh and asked him to find something for Connor to do,” Nines shrugs.

“Brilliant,” Gavin grins, and though his first instinct is to pull Nines into bed and cuddle without him being constantly aware of the person on the other side of the wall who can hear every single sound he releases, he makes himself comfortable on the couch, bath towel and sweatpants on. He pats on the cushion beside him for Nines to join him. Nines elegantly folds his legs beneath himself and leans his head on his hand.

“All right,” Gavin says, cracking his knuckles. “Time to get the deets. From the start, please.”

***

_TWO NIGHTS LEFT IN NEW YORK_

_The bar is filled with the locals, mostly cops from the very same department that Hank and Connor have been cooped up with for weeks. They could go to a different place, of course, but Connor insisted that they should keep blending in with the crowd. One last chance of converting the police in New York._

_“Didn’t figure you for the people-pleasing type,” Hank said sarcastically when Connor explained this, which earned him a slap on his arm._

_“They’re not as… Open-minded as I hoped,” Connor admits as they sit down by the bar, letting their jackets rest against the backs of the tall chairs. Hank leans one elbow on the bar disk and orders a non-alcoholic beer._

_“It’s never quick and easy, these things,” he says, though with a softness to his voice. “There will always be people who are fighting to keep the status quo. You’re still doing a great job.”_

_Connor leans into the touch as Hank puts a large hand on his shoulder, shaking it in a comforting manner. Connor looks up and dark brown eyes meet gray-blue ones._

_“You really think so, Hank?”_

_Hank’s eyes crinkle, a warm smile on his face as he squeezes Connor’s shoulder._

_“I really do.”_

_“Some of the detectives that you guided today,” Connor starts, “They look at me like I’m an object, like they’re offended that a machine is trying to teach them something. They’re more attentive when you speak.”_

_“Connor, I’ve been doing this for over twenty years, of course it’s easier for me to grab their attention,” Hank says._

_“Still.”_

_Connor thinks about all the things they have accomplished since they came to New York - the implementations of rules and guidelines, the first simple steps to learning how to resurrect or heal a wounded android, teaching the basics of what he and Hank have mapped out as typical cases of android-related crimes._

_It sounds like so little when he lists the things in his mind, even though he knows just how many all-nighters he and Hank have pulled to finish before leaving Detroit. Still, when he stood before the beat cops and detectives at the NYPD’s new android department, he felt like he had made zero change._

_These thoughts circle around in his mind, the way they do all the time nowadays, and Hank must sense it, because he pulls Connor out of his spiral by changing gears all of a sudden._

_“Hey, do you really think that I look like an alcoholic, has-been detective who’s stepped out of an 80’s movie?”_

_He says it jokingly, especially with the superfluous adjectives, but Connor is appalled at the implication._

_“Who said that?” he demands and turns his head to search the bar for the culprit. It draws a barking laugh out of Hank, who covers his face. “Of course you don’t look like that, they’re just jealous that you look so--”_

_“Old and saggy?” Hank smirks, and winces when Connor smacks him lightly on his forehead._

_“Distinguished. And you need to stop letting people put you down like that,” Connor says._

_“Hear hear!” Hank salutes with his glass. “To us, distinguished gentlemen, and to the fact that we only have one fucking day left of training idiots in New York.”_

_Connor reluctantly drops it and raises his glass._

_“To us!”_

_It’s only a matter of minutes, and a refill of Hank’s drink, before Connor approaches the subject again._

_“Seriously, who was it? I’ll set the asshole straight.”_

_“You gonna defend my honor, Connie?” Hank says, and it warms his insides as he watches the look of indignation on Connor’s face at the nickname. “I didn’t take offense. God knows I can’t be as well kept as most of the guys in NYC, and besides -” he gesticulates at his own form, the washed-out shirt and the winter jacket covered in dog hair, “I don’t need to look good to do my fucking job. I just thought it was a funny burn, like those tadpoles ever seen enough good ol’ action movies to use that kind of reference.”_

_That is, he wouldn’t take offense if the same man spouting the insults wasn’t simultaneously trying to get into Connor’s pants._

_Hank doesn’t know if it’s common knowledge that the RK-line doesn’t have humanlike genitalia, and a mean part of him imagines the guy sweating profusely as he realizes there’s nothing there for him to use. He couldn’t possibly know what to do with an android body, wouldn’t be educated enough to understand the ways that androids can be stimulated and…_

_Well, not like Hank knows that either. The only reason he’s found himself with that piece of information is because Connor told him once during a case. He hasn't been able to think about anything else since. He wishes he could be there with him.The idea of finding what Connor would enjoy, if he’d enjoy anything, is a fantasy that Hank has struggled to keep out of his head for too long._

_He knows Connor loves him, as a friend. He knows that Connor prefers to focus on his work, on the progress that Markus and Jericho are doing - He doesn’t have much time to think about dating. And even if he did, well. Hank won’t exactly be at the top of the list, with his swelling midsection, his ruddy complexion, his nasty habits._

_Connor scowls, clearly not ready to drop the subject. “Shut up. You know you’re handsome.”_

_“Since when is ‘wrinkly and gray’ the new sexy?”_

_Connor looks disappointed in him, and Hank can see he is preparing for the next point on his quest to restore Hank’s confidence, but then his eyes shift a little to the space behind Hank, his LED spinning red. Immediately, the playfulness of the conversation disappears as Hank focuses on his partner’s face._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_Connor doesn’t say anything yet, his eyes following something, someone, around the back of the bar. Then he turns to Hank, and there’s something dangerous, something thrilling, in his tense gaze. Hank raises his eyebrows questioningly, before Connor grabs him by the lapels of his shirt and pulls him closer. Connor stares intently at him and begins to speak, his even, professional voice cutting through the haze of the bar ambience._

_“Please, let me... kiss you?”_

_It’s more of a question than a request, like Connor isn’t entirely sure it’s what he’s asking. Hank frowns, searching his face for some kind of explanation, but when Connor doesn’t seem to find any resistance, he pulls Hank towards him and presses their lips together._

_All goes still as the strange, hard feel of Connor’s lips register in Hank’s brain. The bar and the people around them are still moving. It’s him and Connor that sit still, like they’re put on pause. Hank waits for Connor to move, to explain, but his lips barely move. It eventually feels awkward, and Hank has to gently peel him away. Connor waits before he opens his eyes lazily, mouth still stuck in that weird pout. The whole situation is ridiculous, so ridiculous that Hank has to say it._

_“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”_

_Connor stammers._

_“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he tilts his head slightly to the side, indicating one of the younger cops from the training. It’s one of the arrogant officers, in fact the very same guy who called Hank a has-been. The guy that tried to grope Connor in the second week in NYC._

_Ethan Fucking Michaels._

_For every minute that Hank had to spend time with that asshole this afternoon, he felt his blood pressure spiking. Something about arrogant young men ticks him off - probably because he used to be one, himself._

_Ethan glimpses at the two of them, quickly, before he turns away. Hank gets it now, a strange feeling settling in his stomach. The questions Connor has been asking him about cops dating cops, the way Connor has tried to fix Hank up with one of the younger officers at the NYPD…_

_Of course Hank has no chance against a young, cocky guy like that motherfucker._

_Knowing this might be the only time he’ll have this chance with Connor, and knowing it’s a selfish, shitty thing to do, Hank gently grabs Connor’s chin, creeping closer._

_“Well, if you’re trying to make him jealous, you can’t kiss me like that,” he growls and takes in Connor’s beautiful face, equal parts affronted and… intrigued? Hank doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care, because all he can focus on is the way Connor sighs as he closes the distance between them, encouraging him to open his mouth, to let him in. Their tongues slide together, and Hank hears himself groan, just a little. Connor gets off his chair, and presses between Hank’s legs._

_I_ _t’s right on the edge of becoming too sensual, the way Connor’s legs shift against the insides of Hank’s thighs. Hank cups Connor’s face with his hands, deepening the kiss for a moment, memorizing the scent and the taste of him, before he slowly backs off, leaving soft kisses against his lips. When he opens his eyes, Connor’s are still closed. His voice is raspy._

_“Is he still looking?”_

_Hank glances over at the man. Ethan looks pissed off, but he has turned to the pool table on the other side of the bar._

_“Think he got distracted.”_

_Connor grins._

_“Good.”_

_Then he sits back, as if nothing happened, ordering a thirium soda and winking at Hank like a goddamn tease. Hank blushes, but doesn’t comment on it. Maybe this is what being friends with Connor will be like, now that he is finding himself._

_Hank doesn’t know how he feels about this._

***

  
  


“Okay, so…” Gavin massages his temples, trying to make sense of it all. “Hank threw Connor out.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘threw out’, exactly,” Nines mumbles, “It was more of an agreement.”

Gavin continues on. “Connor and Hank were…” he pauses to suppress a full body shiver at the thought of Hank doing anything romantic, “Flirting, in New York? And Connor kissed Hank at a bar?”

“Yes,” Nines nods, ever so patient. “He was making a point, I think. Not so sure what, exactly.”

“Then Hank kissed Connor afterwards, right?”

“Exactly.”

“And Connor kissed him back. But he didn’t want to.”

Nines shakes his head. “No, he _did_ want to.”

Gavin frowns. “You said he was the one who rejected Hank, though.”

“Yes, but he didn’t want to.”

Gavin groans.

“So what’s the fucking problem, then?”

That earns him an exasperated glare from his boyfriend. 

“Gavin,” he says disapprovingly, “You know emotions are pretty fucking hard to understand. I don’t have all of Connor’s thoughts about this. I just know what he told me.”

“And what did he say about this?”

Nines considers it, probably searching through his memory database. “That Hank couldn’t give him what he needed. Or that he couldn’t give Hank… I’m not so sure, my memories are a bit blurry from that night. Should have known it was a mistake for us to do the talking through interface.”

“Jesus,” Gavin sighs heavily and drags his hands through his hair. “It’s like being a teenager all over again.” He lets out a small laugh at that, imagining androids with raging hormones.

“Need I remind you that we missed the puberty phase?” Nines smirks. “It is extremely unsettling at times, yes. I should know.” 

_***_

_LAST DAY IN NEW YORK_

_The entire morning has been weird, since last night. Not for the first time since they arrived, Hank longs for his own bed, for the weight of Sumo’s massive body over his lap on the couch._

_It has been next to impossible to focus on anything._

_The rejection has been eating away at him all day, and whenever Connor looks his way, he feels his blush creeping up his neck and bleeding onto his cheeks, and he has to turn away._

Hank, you stupid, disgusting old man, _he thinks to himself,_ You might have fucked up the best thing you have in your life. 

_The last thing he wants is for them to grow apart, that the humiliating faux pas on his end will fester and grow between them._

_They sit in silence at the office, almost alone save for some beat cops coming in for reports. Hank wishes that they’d packed their bags last night, but he was too embarrassed and ended up disappearing into the bedroom for most of the night, not ready to meet Connor’s gaze long enough to pick up the carry-on from the hallway._

_Connor’s LED spins, yellow yellow yellow. He is biting on the end of his pen - a habit that he can’t possibly have picked up from Hank._

_“You don’t have to stay, y’know,” Hank says. Connor’s head snaps up. He frowns. Hank scrubs his face with his hands, as if that will wake him up. “I can finish these for you. There’s still time before the plane leaves if you have… unfinished business before we get home.”_

_Connor’s LED spins red for a fraction of a second._

_“Business?”_

_“I mean--”_

_“Are you talking about Ethan?” Connor snaps, and his LED pulses, making the room blink between yellow and red. Hank holds his palms up, backing off._

_“Not trying to pry, Connor. Just thought, if you wanted to catch him before you go home.”_

_Connor’s face is, once again, unreadable. He slowly puts his work aside, the papers aligned neatly with the desk in front of him. Hank waits, thinking of Connor and Ethan, and doing his best not to throw up. It’s none of his business, and Connor is free to do what he wants. It’s healthy, a little self discovery and some adventure._

_It sickens him to his stomach when he imagines Ethan touching Connor - anywhere._

_Connor stands up, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but then he closes his mouth and nods, turning on his heel and marching out the station._

_Hank does not feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want to drop everything and run towards Connor, tell him that he’s making a mistake._

_What he does is stare down at the work in front of him, pretending that he’s actually going to do the reports and shit. He has to stop himself from texting Connor every five minutes. If he wants to keep this friendship, he’ll have to back off._

_It’s been hours when he stuffs his files into his bag and slings the strap over his shoulder. He says goodbye to the captain, makes some small talk with the android, Katie, at the reception’s desk. The flight leaves the next morning, and they’ll have to get up early for checkout. He’s not sure he’ll see Connor until it’s time to board the plane._

_By the time he’s ready to leave this place, he hears a woman calling him._

_“Lieutenant! Hank!”_

_He turns around, begging that it’s not another officer who wants to ask follow-up questions again, but it’s not. It’s Amy Young. Her cheeks are flushed, a grin on her face._

_“Hey, where’s Connor?” she asks, looking around as if he’s waiting around a corner. Hank feels the stone in his chest sink further down. He clears his throat._

_“Uh, he left earlier. Had some… Stuff, to do.” Hank waves with his hand, feeling his cheeks heat up. Amy smiles at him._

_“So, um. I was wondering, if you’re not busy tonight…” She stops mid sentence. “Of course, you probably are, I mean, last night and all. I was just, uh. Wondering, if you would like to have dinner with me?” She blurts the last part quickly, and while she stands there, nervous and expectant, Hank draws a blank._

_He remembers Connor talking about co workers dating, around the same time he asked Hank about Young. “_ She’s been working up the courage to ask you out all month,” _he said. Hank wonders if that’s why Connor has been so eager to convince him that cops dating cops isn't that big a deal. Not knowing how to politely decline, too many thought circling in his head, Hank says,_

_“Sure.”_

_***_

A few days later, Gavin is trying to figure out what the hell they’re going to do about Connor, and he says as much to Nines.

“Look, as much as I get that he’s in a bad place right now, he can’t stay here forever.”

“I know,” Nines sighs. Taking pity on him, Gavin takes a step forward and settles his hand against Nines’ neck, enjoying the feel of his artificial muscles underneath. 

“Hey, I’m not saying we should throw him out,” he says, “I just mean that he needs help to get back up. That’s all.”

"I get it. I just don't know how to help him," Nines says. He sounds so worried. It hurts to hear.

Turns out, Gavin needn’t have worried about getting Connor out of the apartment.

Nines’ LED blinks yellow, and his eyes turn glassy in a way that Gavin has come to associate with taking calls. At the same time, he hears his own phone buzz. It’s Connor.

“I’ll get my stuff out tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

“There’s no rush, Connor,” says Nines with an apologetic glance at Gavin. “You can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you. And thank you too, Gavin. I know it hasn’t been easy to put up with me these past few weeks. I’m sorry that I’ve made things difficult for you.”

Gavin chokes on his tongue. 

“Uhh.. Well. I get it. Where’re you going, then?”

“Markus offered me a place at his home. They’re going to DC next month. I might join them. Nothing is set in stone, of course,” he adds quickly.

Gavin watches as Nines face contorts into a grimace, and he sees the shine in his eyes. He grabs his hand. Nines doesn’t get any words out.

"Feels like quite long a distance from Detroit, don't you think?" Gavin tries. 

"Maybe, but besides Nines, there's not a lot that I would stay for."

***

An hour later, as he munches on a pre-lunch bagel, Gavin and Nines are ushered in to the smaller conference room by an overeager Chris. He shuts the glass door and waves his phone at them.

“We just got an anonymous call,” he says triumphantly. 

“Red panda?” Gavin asks, leaning forward in anticipation. It did bother him that it seemed little more than two junkies daring each other into the bear enclosure. Even though there definitely was something fishy about the fact that there was no security footage of the incidence. Just this morning, they decided to put it to rest, due to lack of evidence and the overwhelming number of more pressing cases. 

Chris puts his phone on the table, and Gavin listens to the recording.

“I know what happened at the zoo,” a nervous, weak voice whimpers, “I was there. It wasn’t an accident. Come to the staff entrance to the bear area on the east side, please. And come alone. Don’t tell the others, they mustn’t know.”

The man hangs up. 

Someone has information. 

A few months earlier, Gavin would have thrown caution to the wind and run straight out on his own. He feels the itch in his fingers now.

“It sounds like an ambush, doesn’t it?” Chris mutters. “A bit too easy, and they wanted us to come to the scene of the crime.”

“I mean, I’m still gonna go,” Gavin shrugs, and judging by the look on Chris’ face, he knows that there’s no stopping him. 

“We’ll get people on standby, all right? Though I think you may need to check with Hank first.”

Chris says this with a nervous glance over at Hank’s desk. It’s empty, has been all morning.

Nines’ LED flashes yellow.

“He’s at the dog park, so it’s probably a good time to call him afterwards,” he says. “I can do it, if you want, but I want to be there with you.” 

Gavin stares at him, and he drops his gaze.

“What? I promised Connor I’d keep a lookout for Hank.”

“Fuck, we _need_ to get those two to talk!” Gavin groans, loud enough that the officers passing the trio turn their heads.

***

“We didn’t really need to get the ice cream, did we?” Nines smiles, though he licks a long stripe along the weird blue dessert. Gavin’s eyes only focus on it, and then goes back to checking out the staff area. They’re leaning against the railing of the cheetah enclosure, Nines casually glancing out at the man-made savannah.

“You see anyone worth noting?” Hank grumbles through the earpiece.

“Not yet, actually I think this gate might be closed off,” Gavin says, squinting at the sign hung above it. 

“Says it’s temporarily closed, yes,” Nines informs them. 

“Weird,” Chris mumbles, his voice heard in the background from Hank’s mic. “They did tell you to meet up there, right?”

“Yeah, by the bears. Still no one going inside- no wait!”

Gavin pats Nines’ arm, nodding his head towards where a young man just entered the staff area. The man is looking around before closing the gates.

“Probably our guy,” Gavin mumbles, motioning for Nines to follow. 

“Our team is ready, just waiting for your signal.” 

“Good. Don’t think we’re gonna need it, though. Probably just a witness that saw something and has been scared shitless enough to keep his mouth shut.”

“Still, be careful,” Hank says, ever the protector even as he is far more fragile than Nines or Gavin. “We don’t wanna add any excess paperwork to this one.”

The gates creak noisily when Nines opens them enough to let him and Gavin through. There are a few roads with signs on them, the staff houses and vet stations tastefully hidden behind thick tree trunks and bushes. There’s a row of closed-off toilets right as they come inside. Nines and Gavin pull on their borrowed staff shirts and the matching hideous caps, squatting behind one of the bathrooms. It’s unusually warm this day, the sun heating up the air as they hurry along the path to the bears.

The excitement from being undercover makes his skin buzz, and he quickly squeezes Nines’ shoulders as they walk briskly down the path with a shabby old sign saying “BEARS”. Dressed in the work clothes, nobody takes notice of them. That is, until they round a corner where the only sign up is the bear one. Gavin hasn't seen another zoo keeper for a few minutes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” an all too familiar, teeth grind-inducing voice hisses behind them, and both of them freeze.

Gavin knows he’ll find Connor’s face before he even turns around.

The man in question looks peeved, shoulders tense and LED flaring red. 

“Same question goes to you, Tin can. Why the fuck are you walking around in here?”

Connor stares at him like he’s an idiot, and inclines his head towards Nines.

Nines does the weirdest fucking noise behind him, one that he hasn’t heard before, almost like a small chirp.

“You told him?” Gavin snaps at Nines, then turns back to the idiot in front of him. “Connor, you’re not at work right now, you can’t just bust an undercover mission like this.”

“Well, I…” Connor purses his lips, and he sounds like a petulant child. “I’d hoped I would have gotten there before you.”

“Great, you’re only sorry you got caught,” Gavin mutters. “Listen, asshole, you just blew this investigation. I’ll call Hank’s team back and --”

He doesn’t finish that sentence, because as if acting in complete panic, Connor reaches out and wrenches his ear piece from him, stuffing it inside his jacket. It’s probably too late, Hank and Chris must have heard the entire conversation.

“I wouldn’t do that. Please, I’ll get fired if they find out.”

“Jesus. Fine, but maybe you should follow the rules for once.”

He nearly chokes at those words leaving his lips. He never thought he'd hear himself say anything like that. Connor and Nines seem to think the same thing.

In the end, the three of them walk together, and when they finally stand outside the entrance to the bear enclosure, Gavin reaches out his palm for Connor to give him back his earpiece. Connor reluctantly hands it over, sending him a prissy glare.

“Hank’s gonna have a fucking meltdown,” Gavin grumbles before he updates Chris. Connor’s shoulders hike up another inch. “Looks like the grizzlys don’t get as much love as the other animals,” Gavin notes, examining the door with the peeled off paint, the rusty old handle on it that shrieks when he pushes it down.

It’s dark in the room, and Nines comments on the sheet of dust on the steel counters. Gavin tries the light switch, and when that doesn’t work, he clicks on his flashlight. Connor is crouching on the floor, investigating something Gavin assumes only an android can see, and when he drags his finger down the surface and brings it to his mouth, Gavin gags.

“Disgusting,” he mutters and searches through the lockers.

“Everything is clear,” Nines informs Chris, gun in his hand. “No one is here though, so this might have been a set-up after all.”

“This place has been thoroughly scrubbed clean,” Connor pipes up, though not loud enough for Chris to pick it up. ”Someone has used bleach on this spot, but nowhere else in the room.”

Gavin finds another door, one he at first assumes is just an exit, but what he finds is a short corridor, barely lit up and with a heavy metal door on the other end. It has instructions on the walls, and he lights them up.

“Always remember to wash your hands. Make sure the door behind you is closed before going inside the enclosure. Don’t enter unless the animal is in its cage, to avoid any accidents,” he reads aloud, following the text with his flashlight. “So this is the way to the murder bears. Hey, Nines, Connor!”

The androids come through the door, and while Connor stands next to him to read the sign as well, Nines stops in the doorway, looking worried. Gavin walks over to him, puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t have time to find out, because he hears Chris’ voice in his ear again.

“Where the hell are you guys? I haven’t seen you go through yet. What are you doing?”

Gavin frowns. “What? No, we’re in the house with a giant sign that says “Bears” on it.”

“You GPS says that you’re almost right inside the bear enclosure. you’re not going in, are you?” His voice is suddenly panicked, and Gavin would be insulted that his friend thinks he’s _that_ stupid, but now he’s only trying to understand what the hell Chris is saying.

“There are two ways into the Grizzly area,” Connor says, his LED flickering between red and yellow. “This is the old one. Apparently it was situated too far off from the staff rooms, and the path was too uneven to take the four wheels when they needed to transfer the animals. I- I didn't know they had more than one!”

“Okay, so why did the guy direct us here?” Gavin whispers, though he already knows the answer, even before the door they came through creaks open and an android walks in. Gavin instinctively points the gun at him.

“You found it,” the android exclaims, relief on his face, though his hands are shaking, and Gavin notes that there are several old laceration wounds on his arms - one that reveals the chassis underneath. “Thank RA9. You need to help me!”

“Help you?” Gavin says. “You need to answer some of our questions first.”

The android twitches, his eyes darting between Connor and Nines. 

“I didn’t kill them,” he says, his voice pitched higher now. “I didn’t mean to, we were desperate! And he hadn’t had a hit in weeks! I didn’t know what to do--”

His words sputter out like a machine gun, and though Gavin suspects that Chris won’t follow any better than he is, he hopes that Nines and Connor have the sense to record what he’s saying.

“So the bears didn’t kill them, a person did?” Connor tries, but when he takes a step towards the android, he gets a gun pointed at his face. He stops in his tracks, putting up his hands. “What’s your name? Do you work here?”

The gun wavers. “I-I um. I’ve been working here for two months. My name is Andrew.”

“Andrew,” Connor continues, his voice smooth and soft. “You don’t need the gun. We’re not going to hurt you if you cooperate. Was it an accident?”

Andrew lowers the gun, as if he’s completely forgotten that he was pointing it at three police officers a second ago.

“We were getting into some bad company,” Andrew mumbles. “We started going out after work. Some shady night club. They had cheap drinks. It started off as a few hits. Just for fun. We found that there’s a composition of Red Ice that even androids get to feel! Then, well, Luke got _really_ into it."

"Luke?" Connor prompts. Andrew glances at him, like he's annoyed that Connor interrupted his monologue.

"My best friend. I tried to talk him out of using again, but at the same time,” he pauses, sobbing, “I couldn’t just leave Luke like that. He needed help. But I didn’t know that he stole from them! Or-Or that those bastards knew where we worked.”

“Did they threaten you?” Connor asks, and Gavin can see him trying to reach for the gun in Andrew’s hand, but the man backs away. “Was it self defence?”

“It was…” Andrew licks his lips. “I was trying to scare them, but they went for Luke with their knives, and I had to…” He hides his face in his hands, sobbing loudly. Connor tries once again to reach for the gun, but about the same time there’s the creak of the door behind them, and Gavin soon after feels the weight of cool metal pressing into his skull.

There’s a gun pointed at his head.

“I knew you would crack under the pressure, Andrew,” a low voice rubles behind him, and he sees Connor and Nines’ horrified faces staring at him and whoever is behind him.

“Luke, p-please,” Andrew begs, and he finally drops his gun to his side. “Let’s just hand ourselves in. I’m tired of this.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” the man, Luke, growls. Chances are, Gavin thinks, that he's high as a fucking kite right now. Nines’ eyes are wide, and he stares at Gavin with a terrified look on his face that Gavin hopes he’ll never have to see again. “It’s not my fault those men attacked us.”

Gavin considers his choices, and decides to talk.

“We have this area surrounded, okay? Just one word from us and the DPD will have you in cuffs within the minute. You’re gonna get arrested, whatever you do. The only thing that’s gonna change is whether you come peacefully or if you decide to add ‘assault against officer’ on the tally.”

“Luke, please!” Andrew says again. “I’ll talk, okay? I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Luke hisses.

“We-We got into some bad crowds, okay?” Andrew chokes out, despite the warnings. He rambles again, the frantic words not quite matching his previous description. “They wanted the money we owed them, and-and I was scared. The woman pointed a gun at Luke, and I knew she was gonna shoot. I had to do it.”

“Andrew!” Luke bellows. Gavin feels the barrel of the gun wobbling.

“I didn’t mean to kill her!” Andrew cries, his entire body shaking. “I shoved her away from him, and her head hit the table corner. there was blood… Everywhere.”

“Andrew, come on,” Luke still shouts, though there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“The man tried to shoot me as well, but Luke decked him. After that, we had to make it look like an accident. We hid the bodies in one of the barrels that we use to bring the bears food, and we threw them in on the other side of the enclosure. This house has been unused for years, it’s where we used to come to…” he trails off. Gavin does _not_ want him to finish that sentence.

“So you made it look like a bear attack.”

“I--” Andrew begins.

“Shut your damn mouth, Andrew!” Luke yells, and Gavin feels the pressure of the gun loosen as the man points the gun towards Andrew. 

It’s one second, and Gavin knows that Connor and Nines will use it to their advantage. Without thinking, Gavin ducks and slams his elbow into the man’s midsection. He doubles forward, but before he drops his gun, there’s a deafening shot ringing through the small room. Gavin lands another elbow down the mans’ back, until he’s face down on the floor. 

“Fucking pigs!” Luke roars, and though there’s no finesse to his technique, it’s difficult for Gavin to keep him on the ground. He shoves him off and stands up, grabbing his gun again. Gavin slides across the floor, feeling the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He can barely keep his head up, feeling the earth moving as he watches Luke point the gun at Nines.

“We just wanted to live our lives,” Luke says. "We just wanted to have some fun."

Before he gets to pull the trigger on Nines, there’s a loud bang coming from inside the house, and Hank’s booming voice echoes down the corridor, followed by their back up surrounding them

“DPD, hands where I can see them!”

Feeling relieved that this won’t get out of hand, Gavin drops his head a little as they catch Luke’s hands behind his back. He struggles wildly, but Hank manages to pin him down with his own weight, massive bulk and all. The corridor is crowded now, and Nines tries to walk over to him while they're busy with Luke's arrest.

It’s all going a little too well in those short seconds, and Gavin knows it when he sees Nines and Connor’s LEDs collectively flashing an angry red, panic in both of their faces as they turn to Andrew, almost like they forgot about him.

As if in slow motion, Gavin sees the gun sliding back into Andrew’s hand. The officers haven’t put him in cuffs yet, as Luke was the uncooperative one. He sees him bring it up to himself, and understands what’s happening a moment too late.

Before Andrew has the chance to blow his own brains out, Connor moves quickly, shoving Chris to the side and yanks the gun from him. The gun goes off and there’s thirium on the floor now. Gavin’s ears are ringing, and his vision blurs while Nines yells something incoherent, Chris calling for an ambulance, and Hank’s face draining of all color.

Connor falls to the ground from the impact, and Nines shoves Andrew against the wall and slaps on cuffs.

***

Connor is still functioning, Andrew's bullet having just about scratched the metal keeping his mechanical brain safe. He looks shaken, but being the obnoxious asshole he is, he pretends otherwise.

Nines is being looked over by a technician in the staff room, Gavin next to him. The staff room is the warmest house in the staff area, though it still is pretty fucking cold. Gavin pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

“Gavin, please, let the medics check on you this time,” Nines begs him when the technician is done.

“I’m fine. Seriously. I just fell and bit my lip. No concussion or anything. They should take Connor first, I think,” he adds with a nod towards Connor. 

Connor holds his hand over the part of his face that has been damaged, his chassis cracked in the middle of his cheek. Thirium is dripping down the side, though the towel in his hand is holding it back a little

“I’m fine too,” Connor mutters stubbornly. “Just need another five minutes for my internal scans, then I’ll just go to a cyberlife store.” He says this, as if it’s no big deal, though all three of them know that reparations are expensive as fuck, and that the DPD might not want to cover it, since Connor wasn’t officially on duty today.

“Are you just trying to get out of here before Hank finds you again?” Gavin snorts, because at this point, he can’t be bothered to pretend like this isn’t something they’ve been dancing around for the past weeks. It might be the adrenaline leaving his body, or just he has had just about enough. “Jesus fuck, just talk to him already!”

Connor scowls at him, looking like he’s one step away from sticking out his tongue at him.

“How about you stay out of other people’s business, Reed?”

“Seriously, Reed? Now I know I hit a sore spot--”

“Connor, Gavin please,” Nines says, a pained tone in his voice, “Just shut up.”

Gavin is about to retort, and from the looks of it, so is Connor, but they’re interrupted by Hank walking through the door.

He’s pointedly not looking at Connor, only talking to Nines.

“You done with check up?” he asks.

“Just about, I was about to go back to the station with Gavin,” Nines answers with a tilt of his head towards the door, an obvious hint for Gavin, who stands up, letting the blanket fall back on the chair. He misses it already.

The technician awkwardly clears his throat, obviously sensing the air in the room, and scuttles after them.

Hank nods, awkwardly swinging his hands while they get out. “Good, I’ll uh--”

“Connor hasn’t been checked yet,” Gavin says without thinking, and as he opens the door for Nines, he adds, “He said he needed some emotional support.”

Outside, Gavin and Nines sit down next to each other. Gavin huffs a breath and leans against Nines’ shoulder. He’s so tired now, though the heat of the sun helps a little.

“Do you think they’ll talk it out?” he asks. Nines shrugs.

“I don’t know. Could go either way. Hey, would you be averse to some… snooping?” Nines asks carefully, and it sends Gavin into a giggle fit. 

“Please, after weeks of Connor in our home, I think we deserve some gossip, okay?”

Nines gives him an impish smile. His LED spins yellow, and through Gavin’s earpiece, he can hear the laboured breathing coming from Hank, the whirrs of Connor’s body.

Nines holds up his palm, displaying the view from one of the security cameras. They can see Connor sitting still in his chair, Hank walking this way and that, fists clenched.

Connor's LED is red, burning through the darkness in the staff room. Hank strides over to where Connor is still leaning over in his chair.

"Are you out of your _fucking mind?"_ Hank swears, his voice so loud even Gavin startles. He jabs a finger in Connor's direction. "You could have been killed! You were an inch away from them having to scrape your body off the tiles, you _fucking--"_

He cuts himself off. Gavin winces at the look on Connor’s face.

“I was doing my job, Lieutenant,” Connor says, his voice icy. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“That’s not the goddamn point, asshole, and you know it!” Hank roars. “What the fuck were you thinking, going after a suspect alone--”

“I wasn’t alone,” Connor interrupts, and gets a finger pointed at his direction, Hank silently telling Connor to shut up.

“Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Am I gonna have to worry about you throwing yourself in danger the minute I’m not around?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Connor spits. 

Gavin groans, almost wanting to step inside and yell at them both to fucking do better than this.

“Connor..” Hank sighs, rubbing his face. He leans back against the wall across from Connor, crossing his arms. “I’m _sorry_ about New York. It was a dumb mistake on my part. I shouldn’t have made a move on you.”

“Why?” Connor pipes up. “Because colleagues shouldn’t date? You didn’t seem to mind that with Amy--”

“For fuck’s sake, Connor. It wasn’t a rule I live by, it was just… I dunno, it seems easier to not date coworkers. And while we’re at it,” he points at him again, “I was NOT on a date with Young, she just took me out to dinner, and she only kissed me because--” he flails with his hands, struggling to find the words, and failing.

“This isn’t about that, of course I know--” Connor yells.

“Then why bring it up in the first place?” Hank demands.

Connor throws his hands in the air.

“I don’t know! Because you say things like ‘Coworkers shouldn’t date’," Connor shouts, with an added imitation of Hank, "but then you kiss me. Then you don’t do anything about it.” Gavin squirms at the sudden emotions bubbling to the surface on Connor’s face. “And you know I was trying to shake Ethan off me at the bar, but you keep pushing me towards him. You didn’t even try to fight for me.”

His voice is quieter now. It's getting hard to listen to. Gavin almost wants to tell Nines to shut it off, and he can tell Nines is considering it.

Hank gapes at Connor, quiet for a few seconds.

“I- I was giving you space! Do you really think I would be _that_ asshole who’d chase after you even when you said no?”

“Should we intervene?” Nines mutters, bouncing his knee nervously.

“Nah. They can handle it,” Gavin says, though he feels his pulse rising, a need to interject and steer them away from the disaster they're driving towards.

Connor hides his face in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. 

“I thought you would get it. I thought it would make you try a little harder.” His voice is muffled by the palms of his hands.

“You _wanted_ me to pursue you?” Hank says, incredulous.

“No,” Connor says, force behind the word. “I just wanted you to, I don’t know - want me in any capacity! I don’t want us to be just one night followed bya lifetime of regret. I want…” 

Connor trails off.

Hank frowns, staring down at his hands.

“I thought I was doing the right thing, asking you to stay with Markus,” he sighs, shaking his head. “But then you go to stay with fucking Gavin Reed? What the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to be with people who make you feel _safe_!”

“I feel safe with Nines,” Connor counters.

“But still. Fuck, I almost had a heart attack when Gavin told me you’d been staying with him. Jesus.”

They’re quiet for a minute. It’s tense and awkward. Maybe they won’t solve this, after all.

Gavin glances at Nines, wondering what he’s thinking. His LED is still spinning yellow. 

Then Connor opens his mouth, holding his arms close to his chest.

“So… Where does that leave us?”

His voice wobbles, and Hank looks up.

“Shit, Connor. I don’t know.”

“Don’t… Don’t you want to be with me?” Connor tries.

Hank is quiet a moment, then says,

“Do you?”

Now, Connor stands up, wobbles on the spot, and stalks over to where Hank is leaning at the wall.

“This is exactly what I mean!” he spits, and the small voice is gone. “Can you stop being a _fucking coward_ for once and be honest with me?”

“Well, how about you stop assuming that I can read your fucking mind, Connor.” Hank doesn’t sound angry anymore. Perhaps a little tired. “You were the one who told me that us,” he gestures with his hand between the two of them, “was a bad idea. And I want you to have your own life. You know, maybe me kissing you was a mistake,” he adds. “It wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry, I know I’m not as good as I could be. But you don’t deserve someone like me, and I sure as hell hope you’re aware of that!”

It’s all he gets out, even as Connor waits for anything else.

Gavin holds his breath when Connor comes even closer to Hank, almost chest to chest. His eyes are blazing, visible even from the distorted quality on Nines’ palm.

Hank stares at Connor, looks him up and down for a long minute. 

“Hank.” Connor’s voice is steady, serious. “Do. You. Like me.”

It’s more of a demand than a question, and Gavin has to admire Connor’s fucking gut.

“Connor,” Hank breathes. 

Then with a great sigh, he reaches for Connor's neck and pulls him into a tight hug, cradling his head and dragging his fingers through his hair. 

Connor's LED begins to switch between yellow and red, though his body is melting into Hank's.

“Connor," Hank mumbles, " _I’m fucking crazy about you_.” his voice is shaking, his arms squeezing him tighter.

He has his face buried in Connor's shoulder, and Gavin hears him whisper other things in his ear, his voice calmer and warmer now. He can see him softly kissing Connor’s temple, right over his LED. Connor closes his eyes, breathing heavily as if smelling him. He buries his hands into the back of Hank's jacket, holding on for dear life.

They break apart, and Hank holds Connor's face in his hands, examining his damaged cheek.

Connor stares at Hank like a besotted idiot.

"You gotta stop trying to put yourself in an early grave, sweetheart," Hank whispers, stroking his thumb over the intact cheek. Connor grasps his wrists, squeezing them. “Fuck, you scared me half to death with this stunt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” Hank hugs him again, and they stay still like that. 

That’s when Nines and Gavin are interrupted by the medic coming over to take a look at Gavin’s busted face. It’s only now that he’s starting to feel the familiar sting and pulse of the damage done. Nines holds his hand while the medic tests his eyes, his ears and cleans the bleeding wound on his forehead.

***

It’s about fifteen minutes later when Hank and Connor come out of the staff room. They’re not holding hands, or holding on to each other, but there’s a warmth there between them that Gavin realizes he has missed.

Connor’s synthetic skin has peeled back over his damaged chassis, the thirium washed away. 

“Chris just left with the perps,” Nines informs them.

“Well done,” Hank says, nodding. He carefully holds his arm around Connor's midsection, squeezing his side. Connor leans close to him, as if he needs help standing up. Maybe he does, though Gavin doubts it. “I’m gonna get Connor to a repair station.” Connor’s head snaps up at Hank’s.

“Hank, I can’t afford it,” he tries, and Hank gives him a look that says, _I know that, you dumbass._

Gavin can see where Connor got that glare from, now. 

“I can probably put it on my insurance,” Hank shrugs. Connor narrows his eyes.

“You can’t, though.”

“Eh, I’ll figure something out, it’s on me anyway,” he smiles, and Connor tentatively returns it.

It’s good to see Connor smile genuinely. Gavin has rarely seen him do that. He drags his twinkling eyes away from Hank's and turns toward Gavin and Nines.

“Thank you for your hospitality. I think I’ll be going back home, now. I’ll go pick up my things tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

Nines nods, and Gavin snorts, “What things? You had exactly one shirt with you.”

It earns him a jab of Nines’ elbow in his side.

“You’re welcome any time. Both of you,” Nines says.

Gavin can’t help himself.

“Though could you please keep your domestics at least a few weeks apart, I’ve barely seen my own boyfriend for days!” 

Connor’s grin turns into the familiar scowl that he seems to reserve strictly for Gavin. Gavin winks in return. 

“Have fun, boys!” He calls after them, vastly enjoying the sight of Connor leaving him alone, for a while at least.

He and Nines watch as Connor and Hank walk out the staff area, beyond the police tape, and Gavin thinks he sees Hank placing a soft kiss on Connor’s head. 

Maybe they’ll figure things out after all.

“All right, what now?” Nines asks, rolling his shoulders. 

“Now? Well,” Gavin looks at his watch. “Technically, we’re out of office by now. Care to take a stroll and look at the monkeys? I heard two of them are actually biological.”

Nines laughs, a lovely bubbly sound, at Gavin’s words. 

“You wanna go to the zoo? Now?”

“Why not?” Gavin shrugs. “The doctor said I had no head trauma. I feel fine. I heard you wanted to see the animals. And besides, I hear they make fantastic ice cream here.”

Nines grabs his face and pulls him into a hard kiss, smiling through it, and continues peppering him with kisses all over his face.

“You are such a dork, Gavin.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes!” Nines laughs. “Though I suspect you just want to see me eating it again.”

“Maybe, can you blame a guy?” 

“I hate you,” Gavin says, still grinning.

Gavin doesn’t need to say it, because it’s like they can hear it between them. _You love me._

THE END

***

_NEW YORK: DAY 1_

_"Hey, you ok?" Hank asks, taking a hold of Connor's delicate hand, which is clutching at the armrest in an iron grip, almost bending the plastic underneath. They’re getting ready for takeoff, two hours of flying before they touch down in New York City._

_Connor opens one scrunched eye to glare at him. His nose wrinkles when he does it. It’s cute._

_"I'm fine. Just… I don't like heights, is all,” Connor mumbles. Hank forces down a snicker._

_"You're afraid of flying?"_

_“Obviously not, I’m cool as a fucking cucumber,” Connor spits out and Hank just laughs._

_“Hey, it’s all right,” he says, squeezing Connor’s hand and squirming to find a more comfortable way to sit. “You’ll be fine, I’m right here. If you wanna, I dunno… shut down, you can. I’ll just wake you up when we’ve landed. Okay?”_

_Connor bites his lip, a very human characteristic. He stares at their hands, his LED making pauses from the bright red that has been shining like a fucking alarm for the past hour, into flashes of yellow._

_“I mean it, you can relax. I got you,” Hank assures him._

_This earns him a warm, if nervous smile, and Connor looks less freaked out. He settles into the seat, the vice like grip now on Hank’s hand, instead of the armrest. He seems to realize this himself as Hank groans in discomfort, and relaxes his hand._

_As they’re flying through the air, Hank dozes off between the movie playing in the aisle and the white noise of the airplane engine. Connor glances up at him, looking for all intents and purposes like he just woke up from a nap._

_“Hank?” he murmurs when Hank folds his other hand over his in a comforting squeeze._

_“Hm?”_

_“I really like this.”_

_Hank closes his eyes, enjoying immensely hearing those words. Hi insides tingle at the feeling of Connor’s hand in his._

_“Yeah? Me too.”_

_“No homo, though,” Connor says, and Hank can practically hear the grin in his voice, which makes him laugh so hard that the flight attendant turns around from his walk back to the cabin. Not for the first time since they became official partners on the force, Hank has to hold up the feelings bubbling up inside of him. I love him so fucking much._

_“Yeah, sure, whatever.”_


End file.
